The Golden Space (11 page)

There were, at any rate, good reasons for this interest in biological
techniques. The young ones did not want to run the risk of natural childbirth even though,
theoretically, they were capable of it. If they were to control their own reproduction, they would
have to learn what the biologists knew. Perhaps they were also protecting themselves in case at some
future time the biologists decided that this “experiment” was a failure.

She watched them, wondering what they might do if they began to think of themselves as an evolutionary dead end. In their rational way, they might simply design another kind of being, one better suited to life than either they or the human beings who had raised them.

Josepha thought: We’re the dead end. Merripen believed that and he was the person they saw most often now.
We’re the dead end.

Josepha, standing near the gate, noticed the young visitors. There were four, two boys and two girls. They were dressed in shiny, copper-colored suits with high collars. One boy slouched; the other stood straight, hands on hips. One of the girls, tall and muscular, was speaking; she gestured with her arms, flinging them out from the shoulders. The other girl stood on one leg, flexing the other, pointing one foot toward the ground. Teno and Aleph stood listening; they were still as statues. Teno was in a worn brown corduroy jacket and pants and Aleph wore gray overalls.

“What are you staring at?” Li Hua said in her hoarse voice. She sat with her back to the stone wall.

“Nothing. Some visitors, that’s all.” Josepha swung the gate gently. The hinges no longer squeaked, but the latch was still not working properly.

“As I was saying, Timmi was kind of discouraged about her trip to Madrid. There’s a character there who’s opposed to almost all biological modifications. Timmi couldn’t understand his arguments. She suspects he may have doubts about extended life as well, but he has a following. Well, it just proves that if you use shit for fertilizer something always grows.”

Josepha peered at the latch. “Why don’t you have a robot fix it?” Li Hua asked.

“I guess I’ll have to. This place needs work. One of the solar panels on the roof needs checking and one of my faucets keeps dripping.”

“Your homeostat must need fixing, too. This house always seemed poorly designed to me.”

“Maybe, but I never liked the newer designs, they always
seemed—” A movement caught her eye. She looked up and saw the tall, muscular girl draw her arm
back. Suddenly she struck Teno. Teno staggered back.

Aleph leaped at the girl. The other copper-clothed outsiders moved in and Josepha could no longer see Aleph’s stocky form. “They’re fighting,” she said uncertainly.

Li Hua got up and came to the gate. Josepha said, “We’d better stop it.”

“Don’t bother. I think they can take care of themselves. Look.” Ramli and three others were running toward the battle. They reached the outsiders and pushed them away, dodging their punches. Teno and Aleph got to their feet. The tall girl and one of the boys moved back in, flailing wildly with their fists. Josepha saw that the village children were fighting defensively, blocking the blows, then pushing the others away.

The outcome, she realized, was not in doubt. There were six villagers to four visitors. Teno and the others also had quicker reflexes and sturdier muscles. They chopped and kicked efficiently. The visitors quickly retreated a few meters and stood together grumbling, nursing their injuries.

The violence sickened Josepha. She pushed the gate open and walked across the park with Li Hua close behind. She passed the outsiders, who seemed curiously unmarked by the fight in spite of their groaning. She reached Teno. One of her child’s eyes was discolored. Aleph, Ramli, and the others were scratched and beaten; their clothes were torn. Yet they had won, or so it seemed.

“What was that all about?” she asked harshly. Teno stared back calmly.

“We had to defend ourselves.” The child’s voice sounded regretful. “They wouldn’t have stopped trying to hurt us unless we did.” Josepha spotted the scratches on Aleph’s face and an ugly bruise on Ramli’s arm. The visitors had tried their best to hurt them, yet the village children had responded only with defensive gestures.

“But how did it start?” she said.

“They don’t like us and they’re afraid.”

Li Hua sighed. “What now?”

“We’d better talk to them,” Ramli murmured. “We shouldn’t just leave them there.”

“It was hardly a fair fight anyway,” Li Hua said. “Six against four.”

The young people seemed mystified. “What’s fair about a fight?” Aleph asked. “The point is to stop it.”

“Let’s go,” Teno said. They moved past Li Hua and Josepha toward the outsiders.

But the visitors were already leaving the park. Teno called to them; they did not answer. Josepha watched them get into a blue hovercraft parked near Warner’s empty house and drive away.

The children had gone camping in the foothills.

Josepha had seen Teno and Ramli off, helping them pack their gear, seeing them meet their friends outside the courtyard. As she watched them stride away in groups of two or three, hands clasped, packs on their slender backs, she had felt tired and old.

There had been no reason to worry. The young people wore Bonds and needed little food and water. But now a week and a half had passed and the children had not returned, nor had they transmitted a message. Josepha, somewhat uneasy, consulted her computer, which indicated that they were still in the foothills.

She called Alf. His image, seated behind a compositor, appeared. “Josepha! Haven’t seen you since Lulee’s party. Why don’t you come over for lunch?”

“I’m worried about the children. Teno and Ramli haven’t called in at all. Have you heard anything?”

“You shouldn’t worry. They’re in the foothills, I know the region. They can take care of themselves.”

“I know where they are: I just found out.”

“Look, if anything were wrong an emergency signal would have come in by now.”

“Does Merripen know what they’re doing?”

Alf shook his head.

She noticed a light flashing on the console. “Alf, someone else is calling. Can I get back to you?”

“Sure. Come on over if you like.” Alf disappeared and was replaced by the image of Chane.

They exchanged their ritualized greetings. Josepha wanted to reach out to him, mend the rift, but she did not know how to do it. He asked about Ramli and Teno.

“They’re not here now. The children all decided to go camping more than a week ago.”

“I guess they’re all right, then.”

“I’m sure they are, but they haven’t called in … Well, I have to admit I’m a little worried.”

“Did they say why they were going?”

“No, but …”

“Didn’t anyone ask?”

“It’s hard to ask them anything now, they seem to resent it, if they
can resent anything. You’d know that if you—” Josepha caught herself in time. “They’re older
now; they aren’t docile little children.”

“So everyone just let them go off.”

“Oh, Chane, it isn’t as if they aren’t prepared or hadn’t gone before. If something were wrong, we would have had a signal.”

He looked exasperated. “As if nothing could go wrong with their Bonds or they couldn’t make a mistake or someone couldn’t harm them.”

“Who the hell are you to be so concerned?” she burst out at last. “You aren’t even here most of the time.” She stopped. This was no time to pick a fight with him. “Very well,” she continued, “we’ll go look for them. I imagine they’ll be annoyed with us, or at least puzzled.” They might have made an error, she thought. It was too easy to assume that because the young people were rational, they were infallible. “Chane, do you have any appointments today?”

“Late this afternoon.”

“Break them. Please come home.”

“What for?”

“I thought you were concerned about the kids.” She paused. “That isn’t the only reason. I miss you.”

“I was just there.”

“Almost five months ago.”

“That’s not so long.”

“It is. It seems longer here. I miss you.”

“You get along pretty well by yourself.”

“Yes, I get along by myself, but I don’t like it. I get along because, like you and everyone else, I think there’ll be plenty of time to take care of things later on. It’s a bad habit all of us have. And you see what happens. Later never gets here. I love you, Chane.” Her face perspired. Her hands shook. She drew them under her desk where Chane could not see them. “Please come home.” She waited, expecting him to smooth it all over while refusing.

“I’ll be home tomorrow.”

Startled, she gazed at his image silently, then held out a hand to it. “I’ll go look for the children,” she managed to say. “I’ll let you know what’s happened.”

Josepha, accompanied by Alf and Gurit, glided swiftly over the treetops, surveying the ground below. The belt around her waist was constricting, the jet on her back heavy. But this way they had maneuverability; a vehicle would have restricted their movements. She steered herself carefully as they passed over a small clearing and saw the remains of a campfire, a blackened area surrounded by stones and covered with dirt.

Josepha was frightened now, trying desperately not to give in to panic, not wanting to suspect the worst. Immediately after the call from Chane, she had contacted a robot in the foothills and sent it to where the children should have been. Looking through the robot’s eyes, her screen had shown only a deserted clearing while the computer told her that the young people were there.

The signal she and the others were following, a low hum, grew louder. They were in the foothills. Josepha saw a glint of metal through the trees up ahead.

They came to another clearing and circled it, focusing on the signal. The robot Josepha had sent out waited there. The signal hummed in short bursts, telling her that the children were there. But they saw no one; only the signs, once again, of a campfire.

They dropped quickly to the ground. Josepha landed clumsily, stumbling onto her hands and knees. Alf helped her to her feet.

“I don’t understand it,” Gurit said as she paced around the clearing, peering at the trees, searching the ground for signs. Her middle-aged face was tense with worry; the lines near her lips were deep. Josepha waited unsteadily, still feeling unbalanced by the jet. Gurit stopped, bent over, then stood up. She held something in her hand.

She came back to Josepha and Alf, holding out the object. “Look, a Bond bracelet.”

“I don’t understand,” Alf murmured.

“Very clever,” Gurit said.

“But we should be getting signals from the other Bonds, shouldn’t we?”

“This is a tricky business,” Gurit replied. “Someone has relayed the signals through this one device and has managed to do it without triggering any emergency alert systems. I wouldn’t know how to begin doing that.”

“Then how,” Alf said, his trembling voice betraying his fear, “are we going to find them?”

“The computer can track them if we turn off this Bond,” Gurit said, “assuming, of course, that no one’s fooled with the other Bonds.”

“You think the children could have done this?”

Gurit looked from Alf to Josepha. “Possibly. I don’t know why they would.”

Josepha felt cold and uncomfortable, as if the weather had suddenly changed. “What should we do?”

“We can go back home, put the computer to work, send robots out to search, and request a satellite scan of the entire area, but that might take days.” Gurit paused. “Or we can keep searching.”

“But we don’t know where—” Josepha began.

“I have an idea,” Gurit interrupted. “Don’t get scared when I tell you this. There was a landslide near here four days ago after that severe storm we had. My computer mentioned it after the storm was over, but I didn’t think about it. I was sure the children had found shelter or else …” Gurit gazed guiltily down at her feet. Josepha knew what she was thinking: all of them had relied too much on the machines to guard the children. “They may be trapped,” Gurit finished. She did not mention the other possibilities.

“That settles it, then,” Alf said. “We must look for them near the landslide.” His voice quavered.

A hill of dirt and rocks stood before them.

“There was a cave here, I think,” Gurit murmured. “They might have gone inside during the storm.” She removed her jet as she spoke, dropping it on the ground with a soft thud. She hurried to the mound and began to climb carefully.

Josepha reached for Alf’s hand. She was numb, imagining Teno entombed inside, without food, without air. They could live without the food, but air … She thought: Nature has killed them because they’re mutants, travesties—and it wants to let us know that we can still die here, that nothing can protect us forever. She recalled the frequent trips of the young people from the village, their attempts to understand the natural world that was part of them and yet outside them.